"That I was hoping to disprove your statements? Not at all. And why should I not be composed? Do you think my heart could break for such a man?" "Hearts don't break so easily," said Madeline, gloomily, "but they ache sometimes." "Do they?" placing her hand over her heart and smiling faintly. "Well, mine don't ache either, yet; but it burns." Madeline stayed her brush again. "No," she murmured, "it don't ache _yet_." Claire made a gesture of impatience. "Oh, I know what you mean, Madeline! By and by my heart will ache, of course--I know that, having discovered, quite recently, that I am human. One can't feel outraged and angry always, and sometimes, I suppose, my day-dreams will come back and haunt me. Well, that is a part of the price we have to pay for intruding into dreamland when we are not asleep. But this is not what I began to say. Edward Percy met me to-day, and this is what he told me: He said he was going away, upon some geological expedition, and would most likely be gone a year. He wanted me to promise to hold myself free until he could return and claim me. He would exact no other promise now, only pledging himself. At the end of a year, all obstacles to our open engagement would be removed. I, of course, supposed, then, that the 'obstacles' referred to, were business and financial ones. Don't think, Madeline, that we have been in the habit of meeting clandestinely. He visited me openly in Baltimore, but not often enough to excite remark; and we frequently met at other places, as he went in the best society there." Claire paused, but Madeline went on with her toilet in grave silence. "Madeline, darling, I can't thank you enough for opening my eyes before it was too late, while it was no worse--and I can't explain my feelings. I despise him, and I despise myself for being thus duped. It is my pride that is suffering now but, of course, I know that, despise the man as I may, my heart will be heavier and my life darker, because of what I believed him to be. Now let us go to Olive." Madeline Payne threw her arms impulsively about her friend and murmured, brokenly:--"Claire, Claire! you are braver than I, and far, far more worthy. You have a right to be happy, and you shall be." And in that moment the girl renounced a resolve she had taken, and a hope she had cherished. As they descended the stairs together Claire fancied that she looked paler, and a thought sadder than before. They found Olive and dinner waiting. As they took their places about the luxury-laden board, three lovelier women or three sadder hearts could not have been found in a day's journey.